


With You in Mind

by Gayrob0t



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Creeper peepin, M/M, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:39:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7725424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayrob0t/pseuds/Gayrob0t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just jerkin' it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> S/O to the nerd who murdered so many of my baby commas

Autumn was usually peaceful and quiet here, deep in the thicket of trees where nothing manmade had tread for years. Nothing except for the artificial life that meditated silently, though he had not tread anywhere in quite some time. The trees creaked and swayed as their dying leaves danced to the forest floor in the annual sigh of mother nature. Their interlocking branches cast a rainbow against the early evening sky. The evergreen pines sprinkled in contrast to the fiery orange oaks. And the bleeding crimson of the maple blended into the yellow aspen. The sweetgum's purple completed the colorful picture taken in by artificial senses that missed nothing. Zenyatta's microphones could pick up the tiny footsteps of the mouse scrounging across the dirt, searching for food. It caught the distant buck, scraping its antlers against a tree trunk, mating season in full swing. And the skink, slithering through the fallen leaves with ease. There was the ambient chirp from below of early rising crickets, unwary of the chirping above from the late foraging birds.

One landed on the omnic's still fingers, its head tilted to consider the perch. His optic sensors collected a near impossible amount of visual stimulus, processing, interpreting and cataloguing each interlacing color. The detail of the smooth edge of its brown flight feathers to the delicate fluff of its chest, white and speckled. Its short beak tapped at his hard digits, startling itself at the sound and flying away.

A sparrow.

The omnic sampled the air to test its pressure, humidity and other content before comparing it to previous periodic tests. The temperature and barometric pressure were starting to dip. He'd have to test again soon to be positive, but he was fairly certain it was a coming rain. Time to find _his_ sparrow.

Genji had been in his own headspace lately. Zenyatta didn't initially consider it negatively. In fact, he always tried to encourage thoughtful introspection in his student. But the ninja was less ‘pensive’ and more ‘distracted’ and he adamantly refused to talk about it. Often times he simply ran away, leaving some excuse in his wake. Zenyatta hadn't a chance of catching him, and by the time his student would return, he'd have put the matter out of mind.

Now he'd have to track him down. Zenyatta's sensors ran a scan of the area, sorting through minor details. A scar in tree bark(too old), a dislodged stone(too low), disturbed leave(the trail too small).

A cracked branch. Yes. Genji had gone that way, either underestimating his weight or overestimating the strength of a tree settling into dormancy. Zenyatta's pace was leisurely as he followed the small clues, startling all manner of small beasts who found themselves in his shadow without noticing his approach.

Dark clouds were starting to accumulate when he found Genji, quietly preoccupied in a clearing. His weapons and helmet laid out on a bed of leaves, leaving his messy hair exposed. Though, Zenyatta noted, it was unevenly brushed back as if fingers had just run through it.

The omnic stopped at the tree line, at first thinking his student was meditating. It would be good for his troubled mind. Not wanting to disturb him just yet, he waited patiently, unseen.

But as he watched, he realized Genji wasn't meditating. He was sitting in full lotus, yes, but his hands were moving. They trailed up and down his thighs, restless and indecisive. Zenyatta could feel the pull of curiosity, but he remained unnoticed. Each time his student's fingers reached his hips he hesitated, taking shaky breaths. Finally, his palms crept down between his legs as he groaned weakly through grit teeth. He paused again, a war waging within himself. One he was clearly losing. At last, he freed his imprisoned member, already hard and wet, but his hand hesitated over the leaking head.

The omnic's sensitive instruments picked up Genji's quick breaths, some of them ending in a quiet whimper. He seemed so afraid, loathe to touch himself, but unable to stop. His hand closed around the hard shaft, drawing out a gasp. He turned his face away from it, and Zenyatta could see his eyes closed and his scarred brow knit in frustration as he started to slowly stroke himself.

Admittedly, the omnic didn't know much about the nitty gritty details of masturbation. He had never had a personal use for it, but as far as he understood, it was supposed to be a pleasant experience. Yet there sat his student, teeth digging into his lower lip as he fought every natural instinct and urge that had driven him to this. Zenyatta wanted to encourage him, to take his time, to breathe, to understand himself and his needs. But this was hardly the time, and he doubted the advice would be appreciated.

Genji's breaths were turning into pants, each whimper becoming a low moan as he found a rhythm, leaning back onto the forest floor for a more satisfying angle. Zenyatta knew he should leave, but he lingered. He wasn't sure why he wanted to see. Why the sight of Genji, laid down and pleasuring himself, kept him suspended there as if hanging from strings. It wasn't part of his programming, software or circuitry. It was that unknown part. The soul he had discovered within himself. It watched. It watched and it wanted to make itself known. To close the distance between them and show just how much it knew about-

Zenyatta terminated the thought, pushing it out and away. It was inappropriate for him to even still be here. It was worse that Genji's gasps and moans were becoming less restrained and every one sent a spark down the omnic's spinal cable. His student had given in, his previous shame forgotten as he thrusted into his fist. Zenyatta could see his eyes opening, their gaze pointed toward the sky but their stare distant and dreamy in some fantasy he'd slipped into. He was whispering to himself.

Zenyatta didn't want to listen. This was private. An overstepping of bounds.

He did anyway. The traitorous microphone picked up every word and burned them deep into the omnic's memory.

His student was begging. _Begging_ his imaginary partner to touch him. He wanted to be manhandled and choked and used until he was worn completely raw and _for the love of all that was holy_ , Genji talked dirty to himself. He wanted it everywhere, anywhere, for whatever reason. He'd do anything for it. And every single filthy word radiated from Zenyatta's sensors out to the very tips of his extremities where they seemed to short out something in his joints and make his fingers twitch.

The unknown inside him watched and _wanted_.

"Please. _Oh please_." His begging was getting louder, mixing with his keening and groans. There was a buzz starting to take over Zenyatta's thoughts, like he had too many programs running and his processor was overworked trying to keep up, or some kind of virus was trashing important executive functions. Everything that was telling the teacher to leave, to allow his student to finish in peace, was being forced out. That fearsome unknown filled the void with its own thoughts.

It wanted to know all of Genji's fantasies. Who he thought of, how he liked to be touched and how much he would really beg for it. It wanted to know what his dick looked like up close, if it was soft. It wanted him on his knees, ass up, face down and desperate. It wanted to _touch him. Just one time just touch him however he wants._

" _Zenyatta_."

All of the omnic's processes and sensors clicked back into the present moment. His cooling systems had been passively activated and the sound must have alerted the student. He'd done something appalling and now he'd been caught in the act and Genji would put even more distance between them. But as Zenyatta tried to think of how to apologize and what he could say in explanation, he realized that the truth was even more insidious. The unknown gloated inside of him. Genji hadn't come out of his dream, his hand was still pumping his cock, shaky and uneven, nearing his end.

"Master, _please_ ," the plea was a needy sigh as he pumped again and again-

Zenyatta's visual receptors skipped several frames. His view of the world was shaking, and still his dutiful instruments took in and memorized the scene. The expression of bliss, the bend of his knees, the curve of his back, the tousled hair dusted with dead leaves, his chest rising and falling in each bid for air, the first few drops of rain beginning to fall.

His software was starting to become overburdened by the amount of detail. Everything was clouding with static, and any command he sent to his limbs received no response. He was paralyzed, hovering there, tangled in the unknown that watched his student spill his seed across his stomach, his body coiled so tight it shuddered through his release.

Through an orgasm he had thinking about _him_.

This was not good. (Though it did answer a lot of questions) Zenyatta had too much charged electricity with nowhere to go. It crackled its way up his spine and drowned out everything else in a loud ringing. It was getting dangerously close to frying his circuits as it flowed into the surge protector deep in his chest which grew hot, acting as a sink until he had to actually set his feet down to divert the excess voltage into the earth.

The contact with the ground did not free him from his stupor, only serving to root him to the spot as heavy raindrops began to patter against the vibrant trees around him. The clouds were opening up in earnest.

For the first time in a very long time, he wasn't certain what to do. He had this new information that he couldn't interpret or catalogue. He didn't have an algorithm for this. This was the territory of the unknown. He really should talk to Genji. But think on it first. Meditate. He had to tell him. No, _give the man what he wants give in just once just one time._

The imprecise nature of the unknown was simultaneously its best and worst feature. The soul could not be relied on for mathematical certainty or clear reason. It simply did as it wished, alive and fluid. The monk would have to decide on some middle ground.

"Zenyatta?" The omnic stopped his contemplation, the overcharged feeling finally fading to a cold icy grip of empty calculation. Genji stared at him from the clearing. On his knees, his expression was the picture of mortification as the rain plastered wet hair into his face and mixed with the fluids down his front.

This was not good at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm the Trashman. . . I go out and I throw trash all around the ring. Then I start eating garbage."
> 
> -Danny Devito

They didn't talk about it.

It was a perfectly human thing to do; to pretend as if nothing were amiss. However, Zenyatta had been correct to assume that it would make things more difficult between them. Genji was even more involved in his own thoughts and had even less to say. All their conversations were stilted and unnatural as the unsaid words weighed down everything with unaddressed implication. Any attempts at communication ended with both giving the other space and neither really satisfied.

That wasn't to say Zenyatta didn't want to discuss the event. His matrix was practically bursting with things he wanted to say, wanted to ask, wanted to talk through. But after several rebuffed approaches, he had resolved to let Genji broach the subject first. He feared that to try and force him would be too much strain on the already uneasy air between them. He wouldn't risk it.

And so they didn't talk about it.

Instead he used the free time and silence to reason through his own side of the dilemma. He levitated half a foot over a fallen tree, water logged by scattered showers and covered in fungi in the late afternoon shade. He kept his focus on the spheres that circled him while allowing his instruments to idly collect the ambient noises, resplendent colors and living distractions of his surroundings. It sorted through them unbidden while the omnic retreated into his thoughts.

There were several layers to this puzzle and each meditation was another attempt to solve and unpack it. He didn't want Genji to be ashamed of this. He was already so conflicted with himself and the compounding of shame could undo all the progress they had made. Zenyatta would not send him back down that path.

The fact that he was the subject of his student's fantasies wasn't necessarily a problem. He would encourage whatever helped, but he needed to be sure the cyborg was clear on where fantasy ended and reality began. Of course, that was if the fantasies were truly any help at all. The unknown writhed in ecstasy at the thought of being desirable to Genji, but there was no denying that, so far, it had acted as a wedge that was driven deeper with each passing day. It was a layer of complexity that he wished he could more easily approach.

Zenyatta's options were severely limited and each path unclear. Everything required quite a lot of delicacy and tact, but that hadn't stopped his soul from offering up its bold solution.

_Just once it will mean everything to him just give it to him just once_

The intrusive thoughts had plagued him since the awkward affair, constantly shouting to be heard over every block and reason Zenyatta used to put it away. It was growing ever more demanding and incessant, carrying with it cursed images. Memories. Genji's frustrated brow, his hesitation and uncertainty. The ease he found in his imagined master. His pleading whines. His wants and _needs just one time and he'll never doubt how perfect he is how beautiful he is and how much he deserves to be touched give him what he wants_

Zenyatta forced the unknown down again, feeling the stutter of his programs with palpable ire that sent his orbs buzzing around on their axis. The orbit had halted entirely, his contemplation thrown and his meditation completely ruined.

That was the last layer of complexity that tied everything into a gordian knot. He did want to give in. To give his student everything he wanted. Everything he imagined. The soul within him was not always understood, but it was undoubtably him. To deny it completely would be a lie and he could not afford such disharmony now.

Though he could not dismiss it, he also couldn't let it make things worse. He couldn't allow himself to be as rash and impulsive as it wanted. Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers over the smooth curve of his chin as he lightly touched each sphere in turn, slowing each of their restless spinning individually as he parsed through the merits of his soul's argument.

Putting aside the physicality of it, he wanted Genji to know that there was nothing inherently wrong with his actions. There was nothing wrong with him. ( _Beautiful. So beautiful_ ) That was what much of their work was building towards, but self acceptance wasn't just given away. Zenyatta knew that the unknown drastically underestimated the cyborg's tenacity if it thought just once would be enough. More importantly, he feared it overestimated its own self control.

Perhaps this was a breaking point. Zenyatta considered, so very very briefly, that the two may have to take some time apart. Immediately the unknown swelled in protest, absolutely indignant and totally opposed to the idea. Running away was no solution.

Stuck, the monk wondered what Genji could be thinking right now. What he could be doing off on his own in these woods. Probably the same thing the omnic was doing. Thinking. Meditating. His knees spread and his wandering hands drifting down-

Zenyatta sat solidly down on the damp log sending all manner of bugs and critters running from the rotting wood in surprise. He hardly noticed with his head in his hands and a cloud of steam curling around his shoulders. He should not have stayed. He shouldn't have watched. He shouldn't have recorded and he shouldn't be replaying the memory every time he dared have an undisciplined thought.

"Teacher," the words were quiet. So quiet that the monk doubted they would have even been heard if not for his sensitive microphone now alerting him to a disturbance of his thoughts, "We should talk."

Zenyatta raised his head to see Genji kneeling on the forest floor before him, the gently disturbed leaves at his feet the only sign of his landing. The omnic didn't show it, but he was startled. He reviewed his catalogued visual data trying to see how long the ninja had been nearby. Watching.

Genji rose to stand at full height, shoulders squared and hands closed in firm fists. He had gathered solid confidence for this confrontation. His graceful prowess was intimidating, the evening light filtering through the trees spotlighting his lithe form. He was waiting on the monk, who was still looking for him in his memories.

Zenyatta found the intruding cyborg after vigorously scrubbing his recordings and saw that Genji had crept into sight shortly after the monk had entered his meditation. He moved so stealthily across the tree branches that nothing had seemed amiss and hopped through the air in almost impossible silence. Even more surprising was that Genji had stopped just outside of his attack radius and silently waited. As if observing prey. He had come with the express reason of watching, even reacting to the omnic's earlier stutter with a subtle cringe. Yet at no point had the information roused the omnic from his deliberation. Genji had snuck up on him.

The unknown was the first to react, but it did something unexpected. It silenced its continual siren and filled the monk's entire being with a silken smooth golden light, carrying with it the soft kiss of the Iris; a refined tranquility that was easy and smooth, allowing both the living and nonliving parts to mix in equal measure. It made everything simple.

It was going to do this properly.

"Yes." The monk accepted the request that Genji left patiently hanging between them. He lifted himself from the fallen tree to match his confidence, but with more ease as his spheres returned to their expected rotation. "Yes we should."

"I wanted to apologize to you, Zenyatta." He was still quiet and a little rushed, but sure, "I should have spoken to you sooner. You had given me many opportunities to do so, and I refused every one. I've been foolish." Genji's attack was direct to where he believed to be the source. The start of the whole affair. He'd had something on his mind. "I can't stop thinking about you and I allowed it to go much too far." His unreadable mask left his expression a mystery, and his words had the air of being practiced. Rehearsed. There was something else under them. Some kind of anticipation, but it wasn't clear for what. "I knew that I should have spoken to you and I knew that it was wrong and I still-"

"No." Zenyatta raised his hand in gentle interruption, and Genji stopped. "You have done nothing wrong. I must apologize for," he cycled through his vocabulary, knowing his words here were vital. The unknown was keenly aware of how close his student stood, " _hesitating_ once I realized.” Genji tilted his head, listening acutely. “It was a violation of your privacy."

Something in his demeanor shifted, his stance no longer defensive. "How much," He leaned forward only an inch, but the unknown took a mile, imagining the curve of his chest rising and falling in gasping breaths, though he had gone impossibly still, unreadable and dangerous, "did you hesitate?"

Zenyatta couldn't help but feel as if he were perched on the edge of a trap. His student was sharp, even in his guilt, and he deserved to know the truth. The omnic realized it was a mistake to allow him to decide the atmosphere and pace of this apology, but the soul smoothed down any reservations and lead the way.

Genji was waiting for an answer.

"Longer than I should have." The admission loosened the cyborg's fingers, lowered his shoulders, and raised his chin. There was something about the way he cocked his head, inquisitive and sly. Zenyatta could feel the unknown coiling in response to it, but the gentle tranquility held firm with only a slight acceleration of the orbs rotation. _Just once._

"So, how much did you see?" His student was rubbing his thumb against his knuckles and his ambient body temperature was rising. Both signs were subtle but well noted by the instruments and the unknown. This wasn't about him anymore. This was about the omnic and the tension that was stretching out in the air between them and filling his thoughts with blissful memories of those fingers moving in hesitant touches, that elevated temperature. _It will mean everything to him._

"More than I should have." Zenyatta felt a current shoot through every wire in his neck, leaving him tingling and alert to every detail of his student both past and present. He couldn't focus on anything else. He had already said enough. Maybe even too much.

"Did you," Genji was moving, taking a cautious half step forward so that he stood less than a foot away. His already quiet voice became a hushed whisper. The confidence in it faltered for just a moment, but Zenyatta could feel the trap close tighter around him with every word. "Did you like watching me?"

That overcharged feeling returned, flooding Zenyatta's instruments with excess stimuli. He could feel each pulse of electricity through his system. He could see each desperate twitch of his student and the air had something heavy and musky-sweet in it. A quick test revealed the culprit to be a human chemical signal. The smell of arousal. The omnic didn't know what to do, what to say. He couldn't think of anything except Genji begging out loud in the clearing and Genji begging silently in front of him. The unknown was pressing against his insides, twisting every wire and frying every circuit to have its way. It was undeniable.

And so he didn't deny it. The unknown cut through the entire convoluted mess in a single stroke. It simplified. _Give him what you both want._

He reached for the cyborg, lightly touching the mask, a gentle snap of a spark traveling between them marked the contact. The way he leaned into the touch with a gentle shudder was enough. Zenyatta gave in. He was filled with love and devotion and _want_ for Genji as the unknown smothered him in golden light. Finally they agreed. It erased any doubts or questions, easing into the Iris and bringing forth glowing hands that all reached for his student. There was no doing this halfway.

Genji was startled, but the hands dragged him forward, each one desperate for something to touch, something to grab. They slid along the student's arms, stopping to grip his wrist and wrap around his back and trace his toned muscles and squeeze the firm flesh that was the cyborg's ass. Still there wasn't enough contact to satisfy the unknown.

"Yes." Zenyatta finally answered. The sound Genji made in response was sweet and heady. A mix of a shuddering gasp and a breathy moan that sent so much static up his spine it burned. He saved the recording for later. He'd definitely want to hear it again.

Genji was going weak in the knees, dependent on the hands to stand. He unclipped the weapons at his back and discarded them before lowering the cyborg carefully to the blanket of leaves. The unknown refused to stop touching him for more than an instant. The forest floor was still damp and dirty against the monk's knees, but neither had any reservations beyond this moment. Zenyatta didn't care about anything else but Genji underneath him, his quiet gasps and gentle shudders being painstakingly doted on by his sensors even as more were pulled free by the wandering golden appendages.

Zenyatta needed to see his face. He needed to see everything. To drink it all in unhindered. The extra hands went to work, their fingers sliding over every inch of his student and prying away anything in their way. His two metal hands were pressing at the locks on that blasted helmet, pulling off each piece of the complicated apparatus and tossing them away without ceremony. Finally, he could see Genji's flushed face, his eyes closed and unease creasing his already lined features. The unknown hesitated, but didn't stop its assault on the outer plating.

"What troubles you, my sparrow?" Zenyatta cradled his student's jaw and ran a metal thumb across his ragged lower lip. The shaky breath his student took in was followed by a quiet sigh. He only opened one eye, resisting the distraction of the unknown’s continued ministrations.

“You don’t have to do this, teacher.” The uncertainty was hardly a surprise. Both the omnic and the unknown were in agreement that Genji severely underestimated his appeal; Zenyatta couldn't picture him as anything other than perfect. He slowly slipped down his student, memorizing every detail of his smooth throat, broad shoulders, accented chest and the tightly knit texture of artificial skin stretched over powerful muscles. Each of which was flexing and shifting under his palms. His mind drifted to what lie hidden unseen underneath the lights and the fibers. Living tissue, soft, tender and vulnerable. Parts that the omnic could never truly understand, but inside all of it was something familiar. The soul. An extension of the Iris that connected them. Even with all their differences there was this. Zenyatta cherished all of it. His student hadn't learned to appreciate it yet, didn't understand how beautiful he was yet.

"If you don't want to, I-" The omnic interrupted his unnecessary reassurances with a hand of comforting light pressing against his swelling erection. It was soft and growing firmer by the second, but looked to be mostly artificial. The dull red synthetics were specially crafted to act as naturally as possible, but there was no denying it wasn't the real deal. No wonder Genji struggled with it. In contrast, the unknown was giddy and lust drunk, its ecstasy washing over the omnic in unrestrained bursts that threatened to overwhelm his processors.

“What I want,” Zenyatta leaned forward to take up all of his student’s sight, a hand closing around the hardening shaft, but unmoving, "Is to hear what you would like me to do to you." A gentle squeeze and the cyborg was breathless, a strained whine caught in his throat. He covered his eyes with one hand and chewed his lower lip. He didn't want to see. Didn't want to say. The unknown was offended and pried both his hands up to interlock the cyborg's fingers with ethereal ones.

"Genji," Zenyatta's tone was gentle, but chiding, "You were not afraid to ask before." His student's dark eyes opened and his jaw set in embarrassment. His internal temperature was climbing even higher. Yes, the teacher hadn't forgotten the mouth he had on him. "Even more than watching," His synthesized voice dropped to a lower and less even tone, "I loved hearing everything you had to say."

His words reverberated through his fame, and certainly ignited something in Genji, who writhed and struggled against the hands that held him still, refusing to do anything until he asked for it. His teeth worried at his abused lip again as he took in several deep breaths through his nose. The unknown showed its patience. It wanted to hear it too. Zenyatta traced lazy shapes against the artificial skin with several hands, in no hurry. They had time. The world could wait. The sky was darkening, and the woods were growing quiet save for the song of the crickets. Still he could wait.

"Please," the whisper was a faint spark in the omnic's thoughts. "Please master, I want you to," he paused and Zenyatta had to suppress the charged anticipation that threatened to drown out his words with static. "I want you to use me." It sounded like a guilty confession, but Genji was picking up momentum. "I want you to touch me."

To punctuate the point, he moved his hips up into the hand that held him, groaning for friction. Not one to torture, the monk granted him a slow stroking pace, drawing forth gentle sighs from his student. It gave him some confidence and he was growing louder. "I want everything. I want to feel you inside me. I want bruises and I want to be sore." Genji stared up at his master, licking his swollen lips with the barest crinkle of a smile in his eyes as he released steam from his shoulder vents.

What kind of fool would he be to deny him? Metal hands lifted bionic thighs to drag them over his own. He couldn't tell whether it was his programming or the unknown that pressed back against the roll of his student’s hips. It all just felt right. Felt natural. Good. Harmonious and perfect. Even the latent lust fuzzy buzz of his instruments was nice. He moved back a little to slip a finger into the cyborg, earning a gasp and a shiver. Genji's begging was growing more haggard and desperate.

"More, I need it." He keened and arched through his preparation, thrusting up into the hand that refused to increase its leisurely pace.

"You 'need' it?" Zenyatta's chuckle was warm and good natured, but Genji whined in protest.

"Yes!" He grit his teeth as a second finger joined the first in working to spread him, as unhurried as the free golden hands that idly stroked up the back of the cyborg's thighs to grasp the curve of his butt. Nice. "I'll go crazy without it. Zenyatta I can't take this much longer just please!" He was knocked breathless when the master found his mark against his soft internal walls, but he picked up his pleading just as quickly as it had been interrupted. "Please. I _need_ it! _I need you_! Please! Master, _Please_!" He dragged out the last word into a heavy moan as Zenyatta pressed against the bundled nerves again. Finally he removed his fingers and the golden hands vanished. They were both plunged into darkness. The sun had set without them.

"Very well." The monk pulled his surprised student up to straddle his lap. This close, he could study the blown pupils that struggled to adjust to the sudden dark, the dilated blood vessels under skin and scars that colored his face red, the stray locks of hair that stuck to his forehead. He was a beautiful disheveled mess. "You wanted to be sore, did you not?"

The poor cyborg tilted his head, a curious motion that made Zenyatta wonder if he even knew he'd done it, before the words sunk in. He nodded before looking down between them. His cock twitched, needy and leaking, but he didn't touch it. Instead, his hands probed the edge of the omnic's clothes, all clumsy eagerness with a mix of hesitation and curious impatience. After some fumbling, he held the phallus in one hand. It was difficult to know what he had expected, but he took some time to feel it in the dark, running his fingers over the ridges of the segmented plating on top, then curiously stroking underneath and finding something with more give. He squeezed it experimentally, sending a gentle shock that infiltrated Zenyatta’s sensors until it escaped as a synthesized sigh that crackled with static.

Zenyatta wasn't one for gambling, but if he was, he would have bet money that Genji was pleased with his discovery. Something about the way his lips parted, his tongue lingering on the upper corner as he panted in the dark, or maybe it was how his fingers kneaded against the softer underside, the stimulus rippling through the omnic pleasantly, or perhaps it was how he moved into position over it with his eyes glazed over and his grin crooked and smug.

"Where'd you get something like this," he asked, resting his arms around the monk’s shoulders.

"Rude." Zenyatta's wry humor made his pupil breathe out a laugh that became a quiet hum when he placed a steady hand on his hip. "This is what you want Genji?”

The way the ninja was watching him carefully was admittedly alarming. His expression was unreadable and the dull light they gave off made his glossy eyes sparkle with green and blue. The omnic’s processors saved a snapshot of him like that. The unknown approved.

“Of course, Master Zenyatta,” he murmured the name with reverence. “Of course.” The deep thrum that rose from the monk’s chest was something akin to a purr and made his student’s face brighten with joy. Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

That beautiful face twisted in pain against the stretch and burn of being lowered onto his shaft. He was tight. So tight. The pressure was enough to frazzle the omnic’s sensitive receptors, making him twitch and stutter out a groan to match his student’s ragged breathing. They both had to stop halfway, Genji to catch his breath and Zenyatta to settle his overexcited channels, then again once he was fully seated.

Genji took in a deep shuddery breath and once he had fully exhaled the unknown sprung into action. With a solid grip on his thighs and a quick flip, the student was flat on his back once again and the omnic was pounding into him without mercy, nearly folding the ninja in half. He was going to get what he wanted. They both were.

Zenyatta reveled in each rasp and moan he pulled from his precious sparrow, each thrust pushing him closer to the edge, but never quite over it. He wasn’t done with him and the unknown wasn't done with him. His unrelenting pace had Genji unravelling at the seams. Each breath was a gasp from those swollen lips that Zenyatta desperately wished he could kiss. Those lust hazy eyes that leaked tears and saw through him. Those hands that held his arms tight enough that there was some cause for concern that something would break.

The monk couldn’t take much more of this. He wanted to save every detail, to be able to carry it with him always, but it was too much for his already strained sensors which shifted and glitched at each wave of pleasure the unknown sent in tandem with the stimulation of the cyborg’s insides around him. He pressed his face into the crook of Genji’s shoulder, blocking out his sight to just listen. To just hear his voice and remember it exactly as it was in this moment. Sweet. Desperate. Needy.

_Zenyatta_

_Yes. More_

_Master, please._

_Please._

_I need you_

He swore he could hear Genji’s soul laid bare in those words. He felt as if he could touch it, heal it, make it feel whole. But just as he thought he might, it was all fading into white noise until eventually everything was silent and unreal. Nothing could reach him here and he could not reach out. He was alone save for the unknown. Which was as comforting as it was terrifying.

When his sensors resumed collecting data and his processors began sorting through it again, the first thing he was aware of was the sound of crickets. Their chirping song repeated until they were drowned out by heavy breathing, so close but so low. Zenyatta sat back to see Genji laying against the damp leaves of the forest floor. His front was covered in his release and the omnic found it had also spilled onto him.

“We’re both filthy,” Genji was laughing weakly as he ran his fingers through his hair, catching some dead foliage. He sounded tired but satisfied. Zenyatta pulled out of his student and sat still to acclimate after such a spike in data processing.

“Was that not the intended goal?” Once everything was back in working order and a diagnostics run reported everything in peak condition, the omnic removed the white torn clothing around his waist to wipe down his pistons and metal shell.

“I hadn’t considered it so literally.” Genji’s youthful vibrance shined through in his smile, but he didn’t show any signs of getting up, only sparing a cursory glance for his possessions which were scattered in total disarray. The monk watched him give up on gathering them and relax back into the ground, content to deal with it later.

Zenyatta considered rousing him to at least clean himself, but instead used the opportunity to study him. The deep even breaths that he took in through his mouth, still swollen and red, matched his flushed face and that shock of disorderly hair that had barely been subdued. His chest going taut as it filled with air and a moth had taken a shine to the soft green light in its center. Under the master’s gaze he pulled a knee up to shift his position and find a more comfortable spot, gently shooing the insect away. His half lidded eyes slipped closed in peaceful rest. The omnic wondered if he knew that everything about him was a wonder to behold. A symbiotic coalescence of the natural and the artificial. He was-

_Perfect. He’s absolutely perfect._

“Genji.” He wondered if the cyborg had actually fallen asleep until he briefly hummed in acknowledgement.

_I love you._

“You’re beautiful.”


End file.
